The Better Part of Valor
by Battle Fries
Summary: Is discretion or courage more valorous? Willow and Harry prepare to end the war against Voldemort once and for all, even if they have to flee before they can fight. This story used to be named 'Will You Join Us' and it is a sequel to 'Black, White, and Red All Over.' Reading BWR first is highly recommended. Posted on Twisting the Hellmouth under author name: LegacyWeapon.
1. Out of Time

**Chapter One: Out of Time**

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; JANUARY 8, 2007_

The end of the winter break had come, and Harry Potter was looking forward to resuming his magical education along with his friends. The early months of the school year had been quite eventful, to say the least. Before term had even started, he'd been rescued-slash-kidnapped from the Dursleys by an American witch named Willow Rosenberg, who had introduced him to a world where teenage girls fought terrifying creatures that would give even Death Eaters pause.

From there, Rosenberg had taken him back to Britain and had become a highly effective and highly controversial Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. She had given the Ministry no ground as she staunchly announced the truth of Voldemort's return to all who would listen, and ended up unraveling a Ministry conspiracy to cover up the truth in the process.

She'd also managed to get Dolores Jane Umbridge arrested, and the very thought of that hag rotting in Azkaban brought a grim smile to Harry's lips. Umbridge had paid off one of the Hogwarts Governors to try and kill Professor Rosenberg, nearly killing Ginny Weasley in the process. It had all been a pretense to allow Umbridge to assume control of Hogwarts with the help of a 'Safety Service' which had really been a secret police force. Harry's spine tingled in a sort of fear as he recalled Rosenberg's later lesson on the other, earlier SS during World War II.

But then the truth had come out about Umbridge and her schemes, and life at Hogwarts began to return to normal. But Harry's mind tended to wander towards the unknown dangers outside of Hogwarts. Voldemort was still out there, and now that he had been exposed, he would probably make a move very soon.

Since he had been staying at Sirius's house, which doubled as the headquarters of Dumbledore's secret Order of the Phoenix, Harry had some idea of just how much trouble they were in. Sit-down meals with the Weasleys and the Marauders had become far scarcer. One bit of good news was that in light of Rosenberg's brutal and unrelenting truth-telling, the truth about Sirius and Peter Pettigrew had come to light, and Harry's godfather was a free man once more.

They had taken a walk outside together, and had sat down to eat in a small restaurant in downtown London, where they had simply talked and gotten to know each other a little bit better. Some might have said it wasn't much, but it had meant the world to Harry. Given how long Sirius had been cooped up in one place or another, Harry wagered it must have meant even more to him.

It was good knowing that Sirius was able to work openly to fight against Voldemort, and his godfather had let him know just how much he wanted Harry to pay attention in all of his classes. Even Snape's class, he had said. The man might be an unkind word that Harry wouldn't repeat with teachers in earshot, but he did know his stuff.

Hagrid had returned from wherever he had gone; Harry had seen him at the staff table at breakfast, though he'd been unable to have any sort of talk with him, as the large man had been in a deep talk with Professors Dumbledore and Rosenberg, and the latter two had not looked happy at all.

Whatever it was that had Professor Rosenberg looking worried, Harry figured he'd find out soon enough, as her class was first on his schedule today. She was certainly unlike any of their previous Defense professors, focusing as much on psychological and non-magical tactics as she did on learning new spells. Harry now had a 'uniform' for Defense classes which was designed to enable quicker and stealthier movement and to provide a smaller target, according to the Professor. Harry couldn't help but feel it made him look like a skinny child with black paint all over his body given how snug the clothes were. Thankfully, they were far from uncomfortable.

Harry arrived early to the classroom, but several students were already there. Gryffindors and Slytherins had this class together, but after Umbridge, the animosity between the two houses was less obvious than it had been previously. That, or else things were truly improving, but Harry didn't want to jump to conclusions. Still, if anyone could convince the Slytherins that Voldemort was the enemy, it would be Professor Rosenberg.

* * *

Willow walked into her classroom just as the bell rang to find her class in animated discussion about what they would be learning this term. Willow had a good lesson planned for today, but she had to prepare before she could properly teach.

"All right, everyone! Settle down, settle down. Now, I'm going to take roll call a bit differently today. I'm gonna walk around and tap you each on the shoulder, at which point you will tell me your names and I will check you off. I know, I know, it sounds silly, right? But this will factor into today's lesson, so don't cause any trouble." With her Resolve Face firmly set, Willow began her trek across the classroom. The students looked confused, but thankfully, they didn't question her just yet.

A few minutes later, Willow had made physical contact with each of her students, and was confident that she could proceed. "Okay, then. Thanks for putting up with that. I'd get used to it if I were you, since it looks like Voldemort may no longer be the biggest bad out there right now, since it looks like he's in cahoots with something that I hope none of you ever have to face. But you have to be ready for it if you do."

The classroom was silent, and not even a desk could be heard creaking. Willow definitely had their attention. "So, the reason I went around and touched you on the shoulder is because this enemy can look like anyone who has ever died, and I've been out of touch with all of you for a few weeks. However, while it can take the shape of any being that has ever passed on, it is also intangible. You can't touch it," she said to clarify.

"This being is a master of psychological manipulation. It will appear to you in the guise of people you once knew who have died, or else its servants may have killed a friend of yours, and it will trick you into thinking they are still alive. Whenever you speak with someone, make sure you touch them to check if they're really there. Because even if they tell you things that only the actual person would know, it's a trick. It knows everything that the dead have ever known, and it will use that knowledge to manipulate you into doing what it wants."

A few hands went into the air. Deciding that now might be a good time to start taking questions, Willow called on Ron. "Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron cleared his throat, clearly looking nervous. "Well, um, what exactly is it, and what does it want?"

The other hands in the air went down, and Willow smiled a joyless grin. "It's Evil, Ron. That's not just me describing an aspect of it, that's what it is. This being is a manifestation of all the evil that has ever existed in the history of the world. As for what it wants… Well, death and destruction on a global scale would be my best guess. But to accomplish that, it needs to act through servants and minions, and it's looking like Voldemort may be in league with this thing. He probably thinks it's working for him, but he's deluding himself. And for its minions to succeed, it needs to eliminate those who would stand against said minions, hence the psychological manipulation."

Another hand went up. "Yes, Miss Brown?"

"H-how do you even know about this thing? A-and how do you know that it's working with You-Know-Who?"

Willow sighed. "I suppose it's best that you know. In preparation for Voldemort's eventual assault, an envoy was sent to the giants of Europe to attempt to negotiate for their support. Now before you get all worked up…" Willow said to cut off the flurry of protests from the class, "I know that giants aren't always the most friendly of things, but even convincing them to stay neutral would be a huge victory. Because if they join Voldemort, well, that's just not good for us.

"So our envoy gets there, but he sees the giants talking to someone that he can't see, but who the giants recognize as one of their greatest chieftains ever. Only he isn't really there, and he's also been dead for centuries. He's a legend among giant-kind, and so when their legend appeared to them, telling them that it's their destiny to serve Voldemort, they weren't about to disagree. Our envoy got back and told us everything, and now we know what we're up against."

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat in the front row of the classroom taking notes. Only he didn't realize that he was taking notes. Draco wasn't very aware of much, actually, save for a distinct pleasurable sensation saturating his entire being. There was a soft voice there that sounded a bit like his father. It told him to sit in class, to take notes like a good student, and then, at the end of class, when Rosenberg's back was turned, to use the device that the Dark Lord had given him.

Draco didn't know what it did, but deep within that realm of pleasure, something didn't feel right. _This isn't normal_, he told himself, and he was startled to realize that he could still think for himself. _What happened to me?_

_It doesn't matter, Draco,_ the distant father-like voice told him. _Just do what you're told, and the pleasure will be even greater._

_But, why?_ Draco asked. Even as he asked it, he could feel the cushion of happiness smothering out his free will.

_Because it must be done. You know this, Draco._

It all made so much sense, though he couldn't say why. But he did as he was told and he listened to the lecture about the being that Rosenberg eventually identified as the First Evil. Deep down, Draco registered that this thing he was being taught about was the one who had planned this thin that he knew he had to do, but it didn't seem to matter that much.

The bell rang, but the class didn't get up just yet.

"All right, everyone," Rosenberg said. "I'm sorry I didn't get to go over any of the stuff from the actual curriculum today, but y'know? Life-threatening evil and all that needs to be talked about. So, read the first four chapters from Part Seven of your reading material. We'll go over that next week, and we'll have a combat exercise on Thursday. So, uh, class dismissed, I guess."

The students began to put their notes away and get up towards the door. Draco put his notes into his bag as a pretense to search through it and pull out the rod that he had been given. It was dark red in color, about two feet long. It wasn't a wand, but it did do something. He held it close to his forearm to hide it from anyone watching him.

_Why am I doing this?_ Draco wondered idly.

_It doesn't matter. But doing it will feel so good,_ his father's voice told him.

Rosenberg went over to her desk and began to reach into her bag for something. Her back was to Draco. He took aim with the thing in his hand and pressed the button on the handle.

A blast shot forth from the rod and hit Rosenberg square in the back. She shot forward and propelled her desk across the room, and then she fell down.

* * *

Willow got to her feet, and she felt strong. She felt powerful. She felt her surroundings and knew that this place was full of magic just waiting to be tapped. But it wasn't the kind of magic she wanted. No, true power came from the darker side of magic. Hadn't her earlier experiences taught her that? She needed to prove herself, and for that, she needed all the dark power she could muster.

She felt a small tug of magic inside her jacket, and she withdrew a wand. "A worthless tool," she said coldly, dropping it to the floor. It didn't make the sounds of wood hitting stone, but that didn't matter. She eyed the boy holding the strange device at her.

"I remember that," she said wistfully. "The Toth used that to split Xander in two. Am I also split?" She looked down and saw a red-haired girl who looked like herself on the floor. "I guess so," she said, twirling a strand of black hair from her own head.

Waving her hand, she brought the boy, Draco Malfoy, closer to her. She touched his mind and felt the effects of the Imperius Curse. The caster had been his father. Willow almost felt sorry for the boy, but not quite. "Your father answers to Lord Voldemort, doesn't he?" Willow sneered.

Willow didn't notice the other students fleeing the classroom. They were beneath her. She didn't wait for Draco to answer, but simply delved into his mind and sought out the answers she needed. _Malfoy Manor. That's where your Dark Lord is, and that's where I'll take his power for my own. And if the First gets in my way…_

"Then what?"

Willow turned to see Buffy sitting atop a desk, her legs dangling as she smiled sweetly at Willow. It wasn't Buffy, she knew that, but it was a convenient chance to get some answers. "You're the First."

"I am," it said with Buffy's voice. "Are you going to try and stop me?"

"That depends," Willow asked. "Are you going to stop me from taking all the power I can find?"

"Hmm… I'll tell you what, Willow," the First said thoughtfully. "You want power, right? I've got power you can't even conceive of. So, what do you say? You scratch my back, I scratch yours?"

"I'll think about it," Willow said without hesitating. "But first, I need to suck Voldemort dry. I don't want a rival running around, trying to take what's mine, after all."

"No, we can't have that, now can we?" 'Buffy' smiled and hopped to her feet. "Let's go. We've got lots of power to gather, and some of it is going to be tricky to get to."

* * *

Willow came to her senses, lying on the floor near her desk. Her wand was sitting on her body as if it had been dropped on top of her. She opened her eyes just long enough to see what looked like herself, only all dark and veiny talking to Buffy. Only it wasn't really Buffy.

"What?" Dark Willow sneered. "You having performance issues? All the evil in the history of the world, and you can't get to it?"

"Oh, don't you worry. The Sunnydale Hellmouth may be gone, but there are still six others. Alas, three of them are sealed and locked away rather tightly."

Dark Willow smiled, and Willow felt sick at the power flowing off her. "Locked away, you say? No problem. After all, every lock has its key. But first, Voldemort."

'Buffy' just shrugged. "Your call. Leave the boy, though. He'll only get in the way."

Dark Willow dropped Draco Malfoy to the floor, and with a gush of magical wind, she was gone.

* * *

Harry watched the scene unfold from underneath his invisibility cloak. Ron and Hermione wouldn't fit without giving the three of them away, so Harry was left alone to dissect what had just happened. A hand on his shoulder caused him to look up, and he saw Dumbledore standing beside him, slowly becoming visible as a disillusionment charm wore off.

Professor Rosenberg – the red-haired one – got up from the floor and stumbled over to Dumbledore. "I have to warn them. Have to hide her."

Dumbledore simply nodded. "Fawkes," he said, and the phoenix appeared. "Take Professor Rosenberg to where she needs to go, and then return quickly with whoever she needs to protect."

Willow breathed heavily as she got to her feet. "Thank you," she said, taking hold of Fawkes. "Um, do you know the Tenleytown neighborhood of Washington DC, Fawkes?"

Apparently, he did, given that both phoenix and teacher vanished in a plume of red flame.

Dumbledore turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Come with me, you three. Quickly now."

Harry took off his cloak and followed Dumbledore to his office. The gargoyle jumped aside without a password as the Headmaster approached, and Harry soon found himself inside Dumbledore's office, where Snape was already waiting.

"The First has made its move, Severus. Professor Rosenberg has been split into two distinct entities, one of which may is likely to aid the First. The other is closer to the Willow you have come to know, but her powers are greatly weakened. She will require your aid. As will these three."

Harry didn't like being talked about as though he was not there, but he kept quiet for now. If the First Evil was making a move, and if it was everything that Professor Rosenberg had claimed it was, then what chance did they have?

Snape didn't look at Harry. "Does the dark Rosenberg intend to join up with the Dark Lord?"

"No, Severus. I believe she means to usurp him."

A flash of fire brought Fawkes back into Dumbledore's office. Rosenberg also reappeared, along with… "Dawn? Faith? What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Long story. No time," Faith said. "Red says you can hide us, Big D. That so?"

"It is," Dumbledore said. He took a rectangular case off his desk and removed the top to reveal seven devices that looked like wristwatches, only with a series of rotating numbers on them.

"Severus, take this one," Dumbledore said, handing him one that was jet black. The other six were silver, and Dumbledore handed one each to Rosenberg, Dawn, Faith, Hermione, Ron, and Harry. "Put these on, quickly. Severus, you recall our discussion in case something like this should happen?"

"I do, Headmaster. How long should we wait before returning?"

"As long as it takes, Severus. You know the stakes."

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "Look beneath the numbers. Doesn't that look like…"

"An hourglass," Harry confirmed.

Snape began fiddling with his wrist-device, and then the numbers on Harry's and the others began to change as well. There were three rows of four numbers. The first ended up on 1200, the other on 0621, and the last on 1006.

Dumbledore placed one hand on Harry's shoulder, and another on Rosenberg's. He looked Dawn straight in the eye. "Good luck, to all of you," he said. Removing his hands, he turned to Snape. "Now, Severus."

Snape pressed a button on the side of his wrist-thing, and the world rushed past Harry in a whirlwind. He had seen this happen once before, in his third year when he and Hermione had used the time-turner to save Sirius from the Dementor's Kiss. Were these things on their wrist also time-turners? If so, the sensation was different. It was smoother and less disorienting, but also faster and stranger.

* * *

When the world finally stopped moving, Dawn found herself in what looked like the same room, only the decorations were far sparser and vastly different. No one else was present at the moment. There was a desk near where Dumbledore's desk had been, but it was circular with four wooden chairs around it.

Dawn really wished Buffy was here with her, but she understood why she couldn't have come. If the First was really back, then Buffy needed to stay to dispel the illusion that 'Buffy' was an evil, intangible force of utter darkness and bitchiness. Buffy had volunteered Faith to protect her, and Dawn knew that to trust Dawn to Faith's care was not something that her sister would ever do lightly. Faith had made her mistakes, but so had Willow, and the two had become closer over time as they tried to make amends together.

Speaking of Willow, she looked like crap. She looked weak and drained and not as confident as she usually was. "Willow? Will? Are you gonna be okay?"

The red-haired witch wiped her eyes. "I don't know, Dawnie. So much has happened in the last hour or so, and what just happened?"

"I believe we would all like to know the answer to that question."

The seven of them turned towards the office door to see four people standing there: two men and two women. One of the men, the one who had spoken, looked like a lion might look if he was a man, and the other was bald with a silver beard and a sharp face. Of the women, one looked cool and regal with elegant dark hair, and the other had a kind, round face that looked motherly.

Faith crossed her arms and sized up the four newcomers. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Uh, Faith," Willow said softly. "I believe that these are the Four Founders of Hogwarts."

"That we are," the kind-looking woman said politely. "And who might you be? It is about time for lunch, so if you would care to explain over a meal, you are more than welcome to join us in the celebrations. You do know that today is the Solstice, of course."

"Yes, of course," Dawn said, looking at the device on her wrist. The first number, 1200, likely meant noon, given that they were offering lunch. The second number, 0621, stood for June 21st, which was the Summer Solstice.

The last number, 1006, that must mean…

"Willow, Faith," Dawn said as calmly as she could, "I think I might pass out soon. Like right about now." And pass out she did.

* * *

I don't own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, respectively.

This is a sequel to my previous story: 'Black, White, and Red All Over.' I recommend reading that before continuing here.

Reviews = love.

Many Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy this story! ^_^


	2. Dark Dealings

**Chapter Two: Dark Dealings**

* * *

_Malfoy Manor; JANUARY 8, 2007_

Lord Voldemort was not a patient man by nature, but he understood that there were some things beyond his power to control. For instance he could not control the incorporeal blonde girl mocking him by singing, "I know something that you don't know" in a childish voice.

"I don't suppose you feel like telling me what, exactly it is that you know that I do not?" he asked the First. This girl was not its true form, he knew for certain. What its true form was, if it even had one, was a mystery.

"Oh, there are so many things! Ancient things, hidden things, why, even Muggle things. You'd be surprised how canny those without magic can be. You underestimate them at your own peril," she said idly while inspecting the nails on her right hand.

Voldemort was thankful that his Death Eaters were not privy to this conversation. They awaited in the main hall of the Manor while the Dark Lord inhabited the master bedroom at the moment. "You would not mock me with hidden knowledge unless you wished some reaction out of me. My reaction is curiosity. Do you intend to sate it?"

"Oh, I suppose," the First huffed in that American girl's annoying voice. "Lucius Malfoy's son completed the task that you ordered him to complete. I'm pleased to say that your tinkerers were able to adjust the gizmo just right. Splitting Rosenberg between strong and weak would yield us two individuals who both have an agenda against us, but a split between dark and light… Well, I've seen Will when she's hopped up on the dark mojo, and it's quite a sight to see. She almost ended the world, you know. Ah well. If at first you don't succeed…"

"You mean to end the world?" Voldemort questioned softly. "I thought you meant to rule it."

The visage of the girl giggled in a way most unbecoming of true evil. "The world's not about to go 'boom,' if that's what you're afraid of. We're just going to remake it in our image, and Rosenberg is going to help us. That is," and the First grinned in a way that _did_ strike Voldemort as evil, "if she doesn't kill you first."

"Ha! You think I'm afraid of that meager slip of a mudblood?"

"You should be, _My Lord,_" the First mocked cruelly. "She's clever, ambitious, powerful, and she has me guiding her."

Suddenly afraid, Voldemort began to pace across the room. "Why come to me at all if you just intend to get rid of me?" The Dark Lord felt like a pawn on someone else's chess board. It was not a feeling he liked at all.

"Oh, I think I can make use of both of you. I do want the strongest of you to lead my armies, so why don't we have a little test, shall we?"

The house shook as if rocked by some invisible force. "Oh, goodie!" the First said. "She's here. Don't be rude, now. Be a good Dark Lord and go meet your guest."

As much as he hated dancing to this primeval force's fife, Voldemort was loathe to admit that this power was beyond him. If it wanted something of him, then Voldemort would do whatever it took to win the power that the First had to offer.

Gathering himself together, Voldemort walked down the stairs as coolly and regally as he could to greet the intruder who stood waiting in the entrance hall with her arms crossed under her breasts. She looked quite different than she did in the_ Daily Prophet_: her hair was jet black, she had dark-colored veins popping out all over her face, and her eyes seemed devoid of any pupils, irises, or anything else that an eye should have. There was only a black void there, and yet her smile made her eyes look like wells of power instead of a barren vacuum.

"Lord Voldemort," she greeted him. "It's good to finally meet you. Forgive me if I don't bow. I'm not really the submissive type. Well, not usually. There are always exceptions."

The Dark Lord did not rise to the mudblood's taunts. "I hear we have a common acquaintance."

"Oh, so you've met the First, have you? I suppose she ordered you to send little Draco Malfoy after me. How ironic. The great Lord Voldemort, king of his own little world, taking orders from a foe that can't even touch him."

"In case you haven't noticed," Voldemort hissed, "you are here at the First's bidding yourself. Or do you claim to be acting of your own accord?"

Rosenberg merely shrugged. "I want power, the First has power. It's as simple as that. Can't trust it too much, though. I mean, it is kinda the incarnation of all that is and ever has been evil." She raised an eyebrow. "Can it be an incarnation if it can't be, well, incarnate? I gotta say, I can't imagine what it would be like to not be able to feel anything."

Voldemort nodded. "Then you and I are alike. But the natural order does not have two equals ruling together. Nor should it fall to one such as you, who has no lineage to call on. Before me, you are nothing, Rosenberg."

"Is that so, Your Lordship?"

"It is. I give you this one chance to bow before me and submit yourself to my rule. If you choose otherwise, then you shall not leave this house alive."

Rosenberg merely smiled wider. "Well, why didn't you say so?" she said brightly as she lowered herself to one knee. She bowed her head, but her eyes looked up at him as she kept smiling.

Now smiling himself, Lord Voldemort descended the remaining steps to properly meet his newest subject. "It is good that you recognize true power when you see it. There is hope for you yet."

"Is this the part where you brand me and make me your Death Eater?" Rosenberg asked with laughter on her tongue.

Voldemort let out a high cackle. "Not at all. This is where the First recognizes my dominance over you and grants me its power."

Rosenberg threw back her head and laughed like a madwoman. "You… You don't know anything, do you?"

Her hand shot forward towards Voldemort's abdomen as she leapt to her feet. He felt the bonds of magic holding him in place. "Pathetic mudblood! What do you hope to accomplish? This Manor is filled with my Death Eaters. And even if it was not, you cannot kill me."

Those pitiless black eyes glittered at him. "Can't I?" Voldemort felt a sudden surge of power, and it took him only a moment to realize that the power surging was his, and it was heading out of his body and into Rosenberg's.

"No!" he hissed. "You cannot take my birthright, you miserable creature!"

To Voldemort's great surprise, he was right. As if an elastic band had been stretched taut, his power snapped back into his body propelling both him and Rosenberg back away from each other.

"Oh. Oh, wow, that is neat!" Rosenberg said with childish glee. "You have anchors keeping me from taking your power. I bet if I tried to kill you, those anchors would…" She snapped her fingers. "That's how you survived when you failed to kill Harry Potter. You left a part of yourself hidden away. You… You're a friggin' _lich_!"

Voldemort knew of the creatures that Rosenberg spoke of, and for her to label him as such was beyond insult, beyond mockery. It was a blow of the lowest sort that if spoken aloud within earshot of his Death Eaters… This creature could not be suffered to live.

Drawing his wand, Voldemort caused a gonging sound, drawing his Death Eaters out of the Main Hall, their wands drawn.

"Kill her," he ordered quietly, though he knew he had been heard perfectly.

In the split second before his followers cast their spells, Rosenberg said a single word and stretched out her hand, though Voldemort couldn't make out what it was she had said. He didn't need to hear her, however, as several wands arced through the air out of his Death Eaters' hands to fall at Rosenberg's feet, only they didn't. They hovered in the air between her two hands.

With a grin, she turned towards his army and willed their wands to turn on them.

"_Stupefy_!"

Dozens of red blasts shot out of each of the hovering wands. Clumped together as they were, the Death Eaters had no chance at evasion, and they all fell to the ground, unconscious.

Smiling silently, Rosenberg turned to face Voldemort again, and the wands turned with her. "Before you try anything, Voldy, I could have easily taken your wand along with theirs. I could have even more easily killed all of your followers without much thought or care. But assuming you can get them all housetrained, they might make adequate minions. The only question is if I let you lead them, or if I kill you and take them all for myself. It's entirely up to you, Your Wizardship."

Voldemort was not easily rattled, and he was not rattled now. His order was a test of the witch's powers, nothing more. He had estimated that his combined forces would be no match for her, but he wanted to see her skills in action so he could plot a defense if he had to. He had a link with his wand that would let him recall it if he had to, but that was rare talent that he had spent many years honing. He hadn't thought he'd ever need it, but Dumbledore had bested Grindelwald, after all, and had left him alive after disarming him. The old man's sentimentality would be his downfall one day.

Rosenberg sighed. "Look, I'll make a deal with you, 'kay? You've spent years, maybe decades, studying dark magic from all across the world. I have more raw power than you, I'd guess, but I think you might know some stuff that I don't. I also have a knack for thinking outside the box, while you and your henchmen are stuck following a creed that hasn't changed in centuries. I'm thinking there's an exchange to be agreed upon, if you're willing. Purely in the interest of expanding our respective personal powers, y'know?"

Voldemort considered the witch's offer. If they dueled now, he was not certain that he would come out on top. He would still exist even if defeated, but that was only if the First didn't expose his horcruxes to Rosenberg. And she had tried to siphon his power from him earlier. Robbing a witch or wizard of their magic was a terribly trying feat that had only been documented as theory to the best of his knowledge. But if she could teach him this power, then he could probably eclipse her power _and_ her knowledge.

"You realize, of course," he said slowly, "that such an alliance can only last so long before one of us inevitably tries to kill the other. For the sake of personal power, you understand."

"That I do," Rosenberg said with a smile. "All right, then. We can leave the wanton murder and mayhem to your goons for now, while we can get to know each other better."

Voldemort drew in a harsh breath. "You had best not be implying what I think you are."

"Psht. Of course not. I only go for humans, and you're a bit too serpentine for my tastes. But feel free to look if you like," she said with a sly grin.

"Hardly. But for now, we have an accord."

The sound of two hands clapping drew the two mages' attention to the form of a young blonde woman sitting atop a pile of unconscious Death Eaters, clapping her hands. "Bravo. Well done. All that jazz. So you two kids can play nice together while we work on unlocking the true power this world has to offer."

Rosenberg scowled. "I tried to retrieve Dawn, but she's already been taken away. Not even my locator spells can find her. She may be in another dimension, but searching all of those options would be a bit time-consuming."

"Don't you worry, Willow," the First said in a falsely sweet voice. "Little Dawnie is safe, far out of my current reach. But she won't be forever. We'll take care of the three sealed Hellmouths last. For now, we have three unsealed ones, of which only one is currently acting up."

Voldemort was entranced by the discussion between the witch and the First. They were talking of the power of Hellmouths, magical nexi that he had thought to be no more than legend. The dark power contained within even one was too great for even him to imagine.

"Right. Washington DC is a hotbed right now," Rosenberg said. "Cleveland has calmed down, and where did you say the third one was?"

"I didn't. But if you must know, it's in Tokyo. So, that's one Hellmouth that's ready to be opened, and two more that'll need some very specific rituals to activate. Sunnydale was quite the place, but there's no sense fretting about what can't be changed. We'll deal with the other three once we have little Dawnie back with us. And she will return, don't you worry."

"Who," Voldemort asked, "or what is Dawn, and why is she so important?"

"Dawn," Rosenberg said, "is the little sister of the girl the First is impersonating right now. She's the senior Slayer's only sibling, she's a font of power all on her own, and she's the Key to everything and anything we could ever want."

Voldemort huffed. "You care not if you kill the Slayer's sister? I thought you were friends."

"Friendship is a burden that holds one back from achieving true greatness," she countered. "Buffy didn't understand this, so I cleaned her clock. Xander appealed to Willow's conscience, but that part of me is gone thanks to your little doohickey."

"Aww," the First cooed. "Referring to your other half as if she wasn't a part of you? That's so sweet! What do we call you now?"

"Don't get melodramatic," Rosenberg whined. "I mean, I guess that's asking a lot for the sum of all that is evil in the world, but I'm still Willow Rosenberg. I'm just not weak little Willow anymore.

"But!" she added with an evil glint, "I do like to make an impression. To any who cross me and live to tell about it, how about _She_-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, eh? Has a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?"

"Oooh! I likey!" the First said in that infuriating valley girl voice. "Your Lordship, what do you think?"

"I think," Voldemort said, "that this promises to be a very fruitful, very _powerful_ alliance."

"Well, I'm glad you both know what the world is all about, at least," the First said with a wan smile. "It's about power."


	3. Solstice Celebrations

**Chapter Three: Solstice Celebrations**

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; JUNE 21, 1006_

"Roast chicken, my boy?"

Harry looked at the plate of food being offered to him by no one less than Godric Gryffindor himself, and he wondered how in the world he was supposed to manage a bite to eat without choking on it from pure shock. "No thank you, Professor Gryffindor," he said politely, not quite believing the words coming out of his own mouth.

The lion of a man shrugged, and despite his intimidating appearance, he seemed gentle enough, at least for now. "Your loss, son. You do look like you could use a good meal."

"Go easy on the boy, Godric." If being offered food by the Founder of Gryffindor House was shocking, then having Salazar Slytherin come to his aid was downright jaw-dropping.

"Is something the matter?" Helga Hufflepuff asked kindly.

"Perhaps," Snape interjected, sparing Harry any further questioning. "We are a long way from home, and ended up in your castle by some accident of magic."

"Pish posh," Rowena Ravenclaw said. "There are no accidents, I say. No coincidences, either. You're here for a reason, that much is clear. Whether you know the reason or not, there's a purpose to your being here."

"You could say that we do have a purpose, now that we have arrived," Snape said in a diplomatic tone that Harry had never seen from him. "We are refugees, fleeing from an evil which has waged war on our home. We had heard that this place was a sanctuary from those fleeing oppression. Also, we are all magically inclined in some fashion or another, and we had heard that a school was being built near here. We wished to learn in our sanctuary, if you would be so gracious as to offer us your hospitality."

"You will find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," Helga Hufflepuff said kindly, and Harry turned as he recognized the very words that Dumbledore had spoken in Harry's second year while he hid in Hagrid's cabin. "Of course, we will take you in. We don't have very many students right now, but we hope that one day, Hogwarts will be a bastion of higher learning for all the world to see."

"Indeed," Snape said. "But while you have graciously introduced yourselves to us, we have yet to do the same. I am Severus Snape, and this is my colleague, Willow Rosenberg. The two of us were scholars in our own village, before we were forced to flee."

Professor Rosenberg, for her part, looked even paler than usual, as if she was sick from some disease beyond the physical. "Huh? Oh, yeah. This is my friend, Faith Lehane, and this is our charge: Dawn Summers."

Salazar Slytherin arched an eyebrow. "Miss Rosenberg, are you and Miss Lehane… How do I put this without sounding like some crude child….?"

Faith answered Slytherin's question with a hearty laugh. "No, no. Red and I aren't like that. Why? Would there be a problem if we were?"

Slytherin pursed his lips, but seemed to be making an effort to stay civil. "Possibly."

"Just… Just so we're clear," Rosenberg said, practically panting with each word, "I had a female lover once before. She was my entire world and so much more. And she was taken from us far too soon. I won't judge your passions if you don't judge mine. Not that I feel up to much judging in the first place, and oh my Gods! I've just been a horrible guest and offended you all and now you're going to kick me out and leave me to die and I won't have anywhere to go and I'll…"

Dawn clamped a hand over Rosenberg's mouth. "Breathe, Willow. It's okay. Whatever happened to you, we'll fix it, I promise."

"What exactly did happen?" Harry asked. At the strange looks from the four Founders, Harry flushed. "Uh, sorry. I'm Harry Potter, and these are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. We're, um, I guess we're students of Professors Rosenberg and Snape."

"Professors, really? You don't say?" Rowena Ravenclaw asked with an arched eyebrow.

Snape parted his hands in a placating gesture. "A term of… endearment for a couple of humble village scholars. We wouldn't presume to call ourselves Professors. Certainly not worthy to teach at such a marvelous place as this Hogwarts of yours."

Godric Gryffindor huffed. "You seek to flatter us. I sense there is a tale that has not yet been told, but before we proceed any further, your colleague, Miss Willow, looks quite ill. Helga, could you take a look at her?"

"Of course, Godric. If you'll allow me, my dear? May I lead you to our infirmary?"

Rosenberg nodded. "Please. I feel less than stellar."

The Head of Hufflepuff House cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean by 'less than stellar?'"

Rosenberg managed a faint smile. "It's a phrase from home. Stellar is our word for having to do with the stars. If you're stellar, it means you're high in the sky like the stars, which means you're really great."

"And you're feeling less than stellar, which I think may be an understatement. Please, come with me. May I levitate you with my wand? I don't know if you have the strength to walk all the way, even with my support."

"Please."

"Very well. Do continue your meal. We will return," Professor Hufflepuff said, leading Rosenberg away with her wand.

Rowena Ravenclaw examined the floating Defense professor before turning her eyes on Dawn and Faith. "Do you two and your friend, Willow, come from somewhere further than we might know? Your accent is strange, as is your garb."

Faith looked to Dawn, who put down her food and smiled. "You perceive correctly, Professor. Willow, Faith, and myself come from a land we cannot find on any map. But there was a great body of water where we came from. The sun would rise over that water and set beyond it over land. Since coming here, we have been places where the sun either rises or sets above the water."

"Fascinating. You do not appear dark enough to be from the south. You say you could not find your home on a map? Do you read?"

"We do. Education was important where we come from," Dawn said.

"Well, I am glad to know that you have been brought up with respect for knowledge, as well as with good manners," Professor Ravenclaw said with a mild toast from her goblet.

"Thank you, Professor. But I'm worried about Willow. I'm not quite sure what happened, but I had seen her not long before she fell ill. She seemed quite well at the time. Could her ailment be something magical?"

Godric Gryffindor cleared his throat. "If anyone can find out what's wrong with her, it's our Helga. Not a better healer in the world."

"I couldn't agree with you more, my friend," Salazar Slytherin said kindly. Harry had heard the Sorting Hat sing that Gryffindor and Slytherin had once been friends, but to see it happening in front of him was quite a surprise. "Your friend is in the best of hands."

* * *

Willow lay on a woolen mattress, which she realized was probably a tremendous luxury in this day and age. It was comfortable, but not enough to stop her from feeling ill in a way she never had before. She wished Xander was here to explain what this had been like for him.

"So, Willow," Helga said kindly as she stood over the bed, "can you tell me anything about how you came to be like this?"

Willow nodded, though it took effort. "Happened before to a friend. Something… Something not human, it used a device that split him in two. One of him was confident, determined, successful. The other… Unsure, indecisive, weak."

Willow winced at some pain she couldn't identify. "We learned that if one died, both would. I… Our shaman put him back together, and he was fine. Someone used a similar thing on me, but I think he was being controlled by someone else."

Helga immediately started waving her wand in complex motions. She took a few of Willow's hairs and put one each in a variety of potions. "Did you see your other self? What was she like?"

"Dark power," Willow croaked out. "Wanted more power, didn't care about the price. Was going to hurt Dawn. Why we fled."

Helga listened patiently as she examined her potions reacting to Willow's hair. "Well, whatever was used on you didn't simply take away your magic and your strength. You still have great magical potential in you, but the distance between you and your other must be great for you to feel so weakened. I have some potions that should fix you up, and I may have a spell to help your body catch up, but it would really be best if you could find someone to rejoin you with your other half."

"Can't," Willow said. "Too dangerous. They know I'd kill myself before letting… The other me do anything too evil. They probably made it so that my death wouldn't cause her to die."

"Hm…" Helga seemed uncertain as to what to say to that. "Do you have a wand, dear?" Willow nodded. "Then take it out and hold it as tight as you can."

Willow complied and held her wand shakily in both hands.

Helga tapped both of Willow's wrists and chanted softly as she moved her wand in a delicate pattern around the wand. Sparks of red and white shot out of it and sprinkled all over Willow.

She immediately felt better, as if a void inside of her had been filled. "That was amazing! What did you do?"

"I merely strengthened the bond between your wand and yourself. It's a deep art and science that determines the bond between a witch and her wand. You are each a part of the other. If your other half left you this wand, then she surrendered a part of herself in the process."

"She doesn't need a want to cast her spells. I didn't used to either, but I don't think I could do magic without a wand right now."

"That's probably for the best," Helga said kindly, patting Willow on the forehead gently with a wet cloth. "The more you come to trust your wand, the more it will trust you, and the stronger you will both become."

"Thanks. I think," Willow said to Helga's soft laughter. "Something's different, though. When I first got this wand, it gave off red and white sparks, but also black ones. There weren't any black sparks this time."

"That part of you was probably taken away by your other half. She does not know what she has given up. Power is only as great as what you use it for. If she seeks out power for its own sake, then she truly knows nothing."

Willow snorted. "In my experience, powerful people who know nothing can do a lot of damage."

"Very true, my dear. Rest now. I'll go tell your friends how you're doing. Get some sleep."

Smiling, Willow said, "After all that's happened, I'm not sure I can sleep."

"Then let me help you, dear." With a touch of her wand to Willow's forehead, Helga placed her charge in a deep sleep. "Rest easy, young one."

* * *

After lunch had ended, Harry and the others had headed outside to partake in the festivities surrounding the Summer Solstice. Faith and Dawn had been excited enough to actually get into the spirit of things, but Harry was too shocked by recent events to concentrate, and he merely sat on the hillside thinking along with Ron and Hermione.

"You're sure you saw what you think you saw, Harry?"

"The man's said he's sure about five times already, Hermione," Ron said. "I think we can say it happened like he said it happened."

"Yes, Ron, but that doesn't answer why we're here, so far in the past. Surely Dumbledore had to realize how dangerous it is to send anyone into the past, let alone to such a historic time as this. What on Earth could be so important as to send us here?"

"Something hidden," Harry said, remembering.

"What was that?"

Harry waved his hand impatiently. "The dark-haired Rosenberg, the one Dumbledore said was going to try and kill Voldemort… He said she was in league with the First. And Dark Rosenberg was talking to someone I couldn't see or hear. It sounded like she was mocking the First, if that was what she was talking to, and then she said something about something being locked away, and finding the right key for it."

"So, what does that mean?" Ron asked. "Does Dumbledore think that one of us has this key?"

"If I have it, I don't know what it is," Harry said. "I'd guess that either Dawn or Faith has it. Probably Dawn."

"Why's that, mate?"

"Faith is a Slayer. One of the two senior Slayers, Rosenberg said. The other is Dawn's sister. Faith's probably here to protect Dawn, but I have no idea why Buffy wouldn't be here herself."

"Yes, and there's another cause for worry," Hermione said solemnly.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Well, assuming that Faith really is a Slayer, well, there's only supposed to be one at a time, right? There's probably another one out there right now somewhere else in the world. What happens if Faith dies while she's here in the past? That would change the future in ways we couldn't possible imagine."

"There'd always be two Slayers," Harry said as comprehension dawned. "Wouldn't that be a good thing?"

Hermione sighed as she was wont to do when frustrated with less intelligent beings. "Have you ever heard of the Butterfly Effect?"

Both Harry and Ron shook their heads.

"Well, it's really just an analogy, but it says that if a butterfly flaps its wings somewhere on an island in the middle of the ocean, then the small bit of air displaced by those wings could be just the bit of wind needed to start a storm that affects countries miles away on the other side of the world."

Ron leaned back casually, basking in the sun. "That's interesting," he said kindly, though Harry could tell he didn't mean it. "What does it mean?"

"It means, Ronald," Hermione said agitatedly, "that a small and innocent act in one part of the world can have unintended, sometimes destructive effects elsewhere. That's why travel into the past is so tightly controlled. The tiniest change here can mean a world of difference back home."

"And that's another thing," Harry said. "What if we can't ever get back home?"

* * *

Severus excused himself from the company of the Founders and walked down to the makeshift fairgrounds celebrating the Solstice. Being in the presence of such legendary figures was awe-inspiring, to understate the matter. Keeping a cool head and not giving away secrets was just as important here as it was in the service of the Dark Lord. Of course, Severus had not returned to the Dark Lord in some time. When Hagrid had returned and given evidence that Rosenberg had interpreted as the First making a play, it was obvious that Severus had been compromised.

If he was honest with himself, he was not entirely certain why Dumbledore had sent the seven of them here, to this time. It wasn't just the time that bothered him, but also the people he was charged with protecting. Rosenberg might be brazen and bold, but she was competent and cunning as well. Though he hadn't said it outright, Severus respected her as a colleague.

The only other real adult in their group was the Slayer, Faith, who struck Severus as no more than an uneducated brute. Still, the same could be said for Hagrid, and he certainly had his uses. There was much about the Slayer that he simply did not know, and uncertainty was not a feeling he was fond of.

Dawn Summers would be an adult by Wizarding standards, but she was clearly the reason why they were here. It wouldn't do to say so openly, where an unseen, omnipresent evil could hear them, but it was something to keep note of all the same.

As for Potter, Granger, and Weasley, Severus was stumped. The boy's fate was intertwined with the Dark Lord's, but was he really safer here than he was with Dumbledore?

A moment of actual thought made it obvious that the only reason they had travelled through time was that Dumbledore thought that Rosenberg – her darker self, that is – would be unable to find them here, or at the very least be unable to pursue them here. Earlier displays of her appearing and disappearing from within the walls of Hogwarts made it clear that the red-haired witch was not someone to be trifled with.

Dumbledore did nothing without reason; the man was as manipulative as anyone who had ever lived, but he thankfully used his great cunning for positive ends, or so Severus trusted. If Potter was here, it was not by random lottery.

Knowing where he stood with Rosenberg as well as Potter and his friends, Severus walked down the hill to where Dawn and Faith were dangling their feet in the lake, having removed their shoes and socks (or in Fath's case, her boots).

"Might I join you?" he asked politely. There was no need for a snide veneer in this place and time.

Faith shrugged. "It's a free country."

Dawn smacked her friend on the arm. "The free country you're referring to doesn't exist yet."

Faith just shrugged. "Sit down, enjoy the sun, maybe cast a line."

Silently inclining his head, Severus sat down next to Faith. "I'm used to knowing why things are happening. I am the one whose job it is to know exactly where things stand. The two of you are unknown to me, and I would like to remedy that so that I might protect you better."

Dawn arched an eyebrow. "Was that a confession or a request?"

Uncomfortable with the girl's perceptiveness, he decided that the truth would serve him here. "Both."

Faith shrugged. "I don't really know. Red shows up in a ball of fire saying that little D's in danger from Dark Red. B says that she has to stay, and she asks me to look after Dawn. We came to you, and now we're here."

"And we're not supposed to tell you why Buffy couldn't come herself," Dawn added. "Someone might be listening."

The hint had been given and taken, and Severus made sure not to follow that line of questioning. "Would it be revealing too much to invisible ears if you were to tell me why you needed protecting, Miss Summers?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"I see. In that case, I must ask one more question of the two of you that will impact our ability to blend in wherever we may go. Potter and his friends are wizards in training. Your friend, Willow, and myself are both experienced magic-users. Where do you both stand in magical ability?"

"I never tried any of that stuff," Faith said. "Just seemed wrong, y'know?"

"No, I don't," Snape said bluntly

"Oh. Well, I guess after seeing some of the weird shit that went down in Sunny D, I figured that kind of mojo was out of my league."

"Let me rephrase," Severus said patiently. "Do you know of any others with your abilities, which we should not mention, ever casting a spell?"

"Yeah, I think B's done a few small things."

"She has," Dawn said as she drew her legs to her chest. The girl was clearly uncomfortable.

"And you, Miss Summers? Do you have any magical aptitude?"

Dawn looked more than a little nervous before speaking, and when she did, it was just above a whisper. "Yes."

Severus let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "This is good. We can all make an attempt to be actual students here at Hogwarts. If we are to hide here, we will not be idle. We will prepare for our eventual return. When that time comes, we will be ready for whatever we have to face."

Faith grunted and pulled her feet out of the water before replacing her socks and boots. "I'm gonna go check on Red. You coming, little D?"

"Yeah, I want to see how she's doing, too."

"I'll meet you there," Severus said. "I just need to fetch Potter and his merry little band of miscreants and make sure they haven't done anything monumentally stupid already."

Dawn didn't put her shoes and socks back on, but picked them up and walked alongside Faith and Snape barefoot. "We've only been here a few hours. What could they have possibly done?" she asked as they neared the small hill where the three teens were sitting.

They arrived just long enough to hear Ron Weasley say, "So, how do we know if the First knows we're here?"

Snape glared at the trio before casting a glance back at Dawn that distinctly said, without a single spoken word, 'I told you so.'


	4. Beside Manners

**Chapter Four: Bedside Manners**

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; JUNE 22, 1006_

The sun was rising over the grounds of Hogwarts, but Dawn didn't take any notice of the beautiful scenery, and neither did Faith or Snape or any of the three kids that had come with them. They were standing outside the infirmary with Professor Ravenclaw for company. Dawn got the impression that the two female Founders were just as close as the two guys, though all four seemed to be a pretty cohesive group.

"You're sure you don't know anything else about what happened to your friend?" Ravenclaw asked. "Any tiny bit of information, however seemingly insignificant, could be of use."

Dawn tried to recall the incident where Xander had been split in two as best she could. "Toth," she said at last. "The thing that used a similar tool once before on another friend, it was called a Toth, I think."

Rowena arched an eyebrow in silence that seemed to say more than most people said with words. "Toth, you say? As in a Tothric Clan demon? I was under the impression that they were not particularly threatening unless seeking out a distinct challenge."

"It wanted a go at one of our village's best warriors," Faith supplied. Dawn looked at her guardian and tried to hide how impressed she was at Faiths improvisation. "This warrior had an ally who stepped between her and the demon's weapon and ended up split in two. The demon's dead now, and our friend was put back together. I'm guessin' that the thing he used to split him up was taken by the enemy, or else they made a new one."

"That does put things into context," Ravenclaw conceded. "One phrase you used is unfamiliar to me. What does to mean to 'want a go at' something?"

Dawn decided to interject before Faith accidentally made a mess of things. The Slayer was far smarter than Dawn usually gave her credit for – a mistake that she kept resolving not to make again – but intelligence did not always equal tact, and these people were not ones that Dawn wanted to insult. "It's another phrase from home. When someone seeks out a challenge, we sometimes say that they are 'having a go' at that task. It can be anything from taking out a warrior to climbing a mountain, really."

"I see," the brunette Founder said as if humoring a group of children. "Well, if you will excuse me, I will begin scouring our library for any tomes that speak of either the Tothric Clan or else this tool used against your friend. Ah, Helga," Ravenclaw said as the other female Founder emerged, her regal tone warming considerably towards the other woman. "How is she?"

Dawn looked to the matronly woman and looked for clues in her face. "Her body is in excellent health for a woman her age. Far better health, actually, than many others I have met. Her mind is similarly intact, and she does have a sharp intellect. It is her spirit that worries me. A part of her is missing, and it pains her in a way that will never fully heal until she is made whole again. But she is eager to see you all, and that eagerness gives me hope. It shows a strength of character that is not at all diminished. My hope is that the six of you will give your companion the support she needs to overcome this malady. Show her that she is not alone, that she is stronger than she thinks herself to be, and she will be able to function normally again."

Dawn let out a sigh of relief. "May we see her?"

Professor Hufflepuff smiled in a way that reminded Dawn of her mother. "Of course, dear. But I don't think you should all go in at once. Just a few at a time, I think Would you like to see her first, Dawn?"

Dawn looked to the three teens, then to Snape, and then to Faith. The kids and Snape made no move whatsoever, but Faith simply nodded. "I'll wait near the door while you talk to Red. Just in case, right?"

"Right, Faith. Thanks," Dawn said, taking a breath and mustering her courage. Buffy's fear of hospitals had at some point rubbed off on her. Or maybe that came from seeing her mother's dead body under the sheet in the hospital. She winced tears out of her eyes to try and fight off the bad imagery.

Rowena cleared her throat gently. "I'll be going to see what I can find. I do hope your friend recovers swiftly. Listen to Helga and be strong for her: she knows her craft." So saying, the Ravenclaw Founder excused herself from the infirmary.

Dawn took another deep breath and stepped over the threshold into the infirmary proper. It was well-lit with the sun shining in through open-air windows. The walls were made of white stone, but the texture lacked the sterile, unfeeling quality that hospitals back home had. And there were no machines with their little lights and sounds to make her worry.

Breathing a little easier, Dawn walked forward towards the only occupied bed. A quick look back showed her Faith giving her a brief nod before resuming her vigil. Pulling a stool over to Willow's bedside, Dawn sat down and looked at her friend.

She looked paler than usual, and her brow looked wet with perspiration. But her eyes were open and she was smiling. "Hey, Dawnie," she said. Her voice was so soft, but still full of warmth.

Dawn sniffled at the sight of her friend in such a state. Scoobies never got sick like this. They got injured, sure, and then they got better. But this sickness, this mysterious thing inside of her… It was too much like her mother's brain cancer, and Dawn felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Cool fingers wrapped themselves around her hand. "It's okay, Dawnie. I'm actually feeling better than I was a bit earlier. And you're here now, so there's that. How're you holding up?"

Working hard to keep the tears from bursting forth in a fit of crying, Dawn sniffled hard and wiped her eyes. "I'm holding in there, y'know? I'm worried about you. We all are. A-and… I miss Buffy. And Xander and Giles and everyone else. Even Kennedy," she said with the tiniest of smirks.

Willow chuckled softly and closed her eyes, her face a picture of warm mirth. "She always meant well, even if she did come on strong. Part of me misses her, too. Probably always will. Another part of me thinks that I used her in a really bad way."

"Willow! Don't say that! You didn't do anything-"

"You don't understand, Dawnie," Willow said softly, and she wasn't smiling now. "After Tara – and after Warren – I was so afraid. So afraid of myself, so afraid that all of you would hate me. And then Kennedy came in wanting me, not knowing anything about my past, and I took what she offered without thinking. I was so desperate for approval, for love, that I didn't really give what I should have in return. And after Sunnydale, when I had the courage to try… She just wasn't for me, Dawn."

"I'm sorry." Really, what did one say to something like that? "I… I didn't know it was like that."

"It's okay. Really, it is. But, before I forget this crucial question of mine, I have to ask you something, Dawn."

"Sure thing," she said, nodding her head. "What is it?"

"Oh, just wondering," Willow said with an impish grin. "Life's been rough for a while. We might be here for a while, and three of my students are only a few years younger than you. Any of them catch your eye?"

"What? Willow! How can you be asking me something like that when you're all sick and in bed and stuff?"

"Just humor me, okay? They say that glasses bring out a certain dignity in a man."

"Giles had that going for him, I'll give you that," Dawn conceded. "And I suppose Harry's kind of cute. But he has that whole 'weight of the world on his shoulders' thing that Buffy had. At least it seemed that way back in DC."

"Uh huh. And what about Ron? We redheads do have a special appeal, after all, don't we?"

"Oh. My. God! That's… I can't… Words! That's like asking if I think Ron is as hot as you are, which is so not fair. You have different parts!"

"So?" Willow said, wiggling her eyebrows. "If I was a bit younger, I might go after Hermione myself. Smart, beautiful, vivacious. Not unlike you, actually."

"I can't be here listening to this, Willow."

"Oh, hush, you. Humor the bedridden lady just a bit longer, okay?"

Dawn finally broke down and laughed, but managed to restrain herself before it became a full-blown fit. "Okay, okay. You're not as bad as I was afraid of. That's good. But seriously, how long do you think it'll before you're back up to speed?"

"I dunno. Depends on what Helga says. She's really nice. She reminds me of Joyce in some ways."

Dawn felt tears threatening to return again. "Yeah, I know. She has the whole mom thing down pretty good. And I'm glad we're here where we are. This place feels good. I don't know how to put it, really, but this land we're on has some really good vibes coming off it. At least compared to DC and Cleveland and Sunnydale."

Willow narrowed her eyes. "That's funny. I don't feel it. But I don't think you're wrong. Must have something to do with you… With your own magical abilities."

Dawn was glad that Willow caught herself before mentioning her nature as the Key. "Yeah, Snape thinks we should stay here a while and get some magical training. I think he meant all of us, and it looks like you could use some help to get back in the game. No offense."

"None taken. Help is good."

"Yeah, well, I think some of the others want to talk to you as well, and I don't to wear you out before they all have a chance to talk with you."

* * *

"I'm not that bad, Dawnie. At least, I don't think I am. Am I?"

Faith didn't want to eavesdrop on Red and little D, but she was a Slayer, and enhanced hearing was part of the package. They both probably knew she could hear them, even if they weren't thinking about it actively.

"Just rest, Willow. I'll be close by, I promise."

"Okay. Thanks for coming by, Dawn. I really do feel better with you here."

"Just doing my part for family."

Faith swore silently. Why did Dawn have to go and say something that made her feel all inadequate? Not in a sexual way or with regard to her fighting abilities; Faith knew she was far more than adequate there. But despite making constant amends with the Scoobies for over three years now after escaping from jail, she still didn't feel nearly as close to them as they all felt to each other.

It ate at her, with an absent father and a drunken, drugged-up mother. It was funny how the first real family she'd ever had was her first Watcher, Diana. She'd been all proper and British, but she'd treated Faith well enough, and she'd actually cared for her. Faith hadn't realized just how much she cared in turn for Diana until the master vampire, Kakistos, was doing horrible, unspeakable things to her.

So she'd run away, fleeing to the other Slayer in the hopes that she could keep her safe. But Buffy had done more than that: she'd given Faith the strength to fight back and kick Kakistos's ass all the way to Hell. She'd never really paid Buffy back for that, unless you counted joining the Big Bad as payback.

She'd screwed up royally, totally missing everything that the Scoobs had offered her, and it wasn't until she'd lived a few days in Buffy's body that she realized just what she was missing.

So she'd run away again like the coward she was, and then she tried to take the coward's way out by trying to get Angel to kill her. The stupid vampire, bless his real and very present soul, hadn't let her take the easy way out, and she'd turned herself in to pay for her crimes.

She'd be there right now, in prison, serving her time, if she hadn't been needed to fight off the First. After that, she thought she could atone by doing good in the real world instead of just sitting it out in prison.

Watching Dawn and Willow be so close together, call each other family, even… It made Faith realize that she still had a long way to go before she even came close to making up for her sins. But Dawn was looking at her now, and Faith walked over to take her place on the stool by Willow's bedside.

"Stay with Snape, Little D. I'll be back in a bit, 'kay?"

"Right. You okay, Faith?"

"Five by five," she replied automatically, not wanting to spill her guts just yet.

"Okay, then. Well, don't get her too worked up. She has to rest. But you know that, and I'll just shut up and wait outside, then." Dawn scurried out the door, leaving Faith and Willow alone together.

Faith tapped her fingers on her knees, hoping that something would come to her. "So, Willow… You, uh, feeling better?"

"A bit, yeah. S'good to have company," she said with a small smile.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm the best company. Not really a talker, y'know?"

"You have your moments, Faith," Willow said in a reassuring voice.

"Thanks. I think," Faith replied. "I guess I just don't see those moments. Heh. There's a lot I don't see."

"What do you mean?" Willow tried to prop herself up on her elbows before promptly falling onto her back.

"Whoa! Easy, Red. Don't hurt yourself. I just meant that… I dunno. I don't know why I'm here, I guess. B's got her reasons for staying behind, I know that, and I'm not saying they're bad reasons or anything. It's just… Here you all are, all of you magical in some way. You've all cast a spell before, and you're gonna be here getting trained to be uber-witches and wizards, and I'm just this useless, stupid thug who you're all stuck with."

Taking a few breaths to steady herself after her little rant, Faith looked to Willow, not sure what to expect. She wasn't quite sure how she wanted Willow to react.

"Is that how you see yourself, Faith?" she asked softly. "A stupid, useless thug?"

"It's what I am, right?"

"Faith, don't. Don't do this to yourself. Just don't. Just… Do you think Buffy would be here if she could be?"

"'Course she would. That's a no-brainer."

"And why would she be here if she could?"

Faith sighed dramatically. This wasn't how she wanted this talk to go. "Little D's her world now that her mom's gone. I mean, there's you and Xander and Giles, but Dawn's her only family left. Most important thing in the world to her."

"Exactly," Willow said with steel in her eyes. Faith could only guess, but she thought that she might be witnessing Red's infamous Resolve Face. "Dawn is the most important person in Buffy's life. Losing Dawn would ruin her forever. She needed to be sure that her precious sister would be as safe as she could possibly be, and she chose _you_, Faith Lehane, to guard and protect the most precious thing to Buffy in the whole world."

Faith couldn't argue with that logic. Buffy trusted her, yeah, but that didn't change much. "I guess I just don't see the Faith Lehane that you all do. Hell, I'm an escaped murderer, Red! What does that say about me?"

"It says you're a better, stronger woman than I am," Willow said coolly. "Well, maybe not the escaped murderer part, but hear me out, okay? I killed two people myself, and because they were hidden away in our little bubble that the rest of the world blissfully ignored, I got away with it. By all rights, I should be rotting in jail right now.

"You messed up, just like I did, Faith. But as much as you fooled yourself at the time, you didn't like what you'd done, and you turned yourself in to make sure that you kept your soul intact. You committed yourself to atoning for what you did, and you can do far more good here, protecting Dawn from the bad guys, than you could do just sitting alone in a prison cell.

"And before you say you're not worth it," Willow continued, interrupting Faith's protest before she could get it out of her mouth, "I've got news for you, missy. You stood with us in Sunnydale. You helped train our army. You've guided young girls who would have otherwise been lost and alone and helped them find their own path."

Willow blushed. "And, you did kinda help take down a big ol' conspiracy a couple of months ago. I don't know if you read the papers after it all went down, but there were a lot of people wondering about the mystery guards from Cerberus Securities who were personally present when everything was exposed. You and Kennedy were the point men – well, point women, I guess – when Cerberus stormed the castle and took down the SS. You have to give yourself credit for saving all those kids and their families from the threat of torture."

Faith felt her face flushing hot, which was totally unlike her. She was the tough one: the hot chick with superpowers. Nothing was supposed to rattle her, dammit! "I don't think I can do this, Red."

"You can, Faith. You are, and you have been."

"No, you don't get it, Willow!" Faith shouted. "I'm supposed to be all big and strong and protector-like and stuff, but I can't protect you from this," she said, waving her hand around the infirmary. "The last time I was in charge of keeping kids safe, I led them into a trap and got people killed. How can any of you trust me with Buffy's kid sister? I get people killed, Willow, and I can't take it anymore, okay?"

Faith got up from the stool and looked out a window, holding the wall with her arm and resting her head on her elbow. The rolling green hills were nothing like the cities of home. There were no electric lights, nor any smoke or exhaust from oil-fueled machines. "This place isn't anything I'm used to, Will. I don't know what's out there. What good am I if I can't even beat up vamps that aren't around?"

Willow sighed. "Okay, Faith. I'm going to say this as many times as I have to: stop trying to be Buffy."

"What?"

"You heard me. You're trying to fill Buffy's shoes by taking all the responsibility for yourself. You're trying to be the fearless leader that never wavers or doubts, who always knows what she's doing and who can always handle whatever comes her way, no matter what. That sound about right to you?"

Faith let out a humorless chuckle. "Sounds like B to me."

"Well, that's why you have to stop trying to be Buffy, because you're totally and completely wrong."

"Say that again, Red?"

"Look, Faith: Buffy's got issues. She doesn't always have the answers, and she can't always protect us. Sure, she usually comes through, but she doesn't do it by standing alone and focusing only on herself and what's so great about her. She had all of us to help her out. We helped give her the strength and the power to find the right answers and to take the right actions. And you better believe I'm including you in that group, missy. You and Buffy have more in common than you'll probably ever believe. Just stop trying to be someone you're not and just do what you can."

Faith made sure to keep her mouth closed as Willow went on her rant. Was she really trying to be like Buffy? And was she really as deluded as Red seemed to think?

"And more than that," Willow said quietly, her eyes closing as her chest rose and fell with heavier breaths, "I need you, Faith."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Red sighed, and Faith felt bad now that she seemed to be causing the witch to become short of breath. "I mean that Dawn's not the only one that needs protecting. We all do, but the others don't really know you that well. I don't know too much about Snape, and the kids are just, well, they're kids. But you and I have been through things that a lot of people haven't."

Faith snorted. "You mean we killed people?"

"There's that," Willow said, and Faith thought she saw a tear roll down Red's cheek, "but we've also seen things – been through things – that no one else has. Not here, anyway, except for maybe Dawn when Buffy wasn't trying to shield her from everything. I need you, Faith, to keep myself sane. You understand me more than anyone else here. Even more than Dawnie. I need you to stop me if it looks like I'm going to do something… Y'know? Evil, I guess?"

Faith sat down again and leaned forward. "You really trust me with something like that, Red?"

Willow smiled gently. "I do."

Faith felt the sun beating down on her face, or at least it felt that way. The infirmary was a bit too warm for her tastes all of a sudden. "All right, then. But you gotta do the same for me, got it?"

To her immense relief, Red nodded emphatically. "Got it."

Faith let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I think I've run you a bit ragged. I'll let you get some sleep. The others want to see you, too, but I think you need some rest first. I'll talk to Helga. She seems cool."

"She is," Willow said as Faith got to her feet again. "One more question."

"Yeah, what is it?" Faith asked over her shoulder.

"Why is it so important to protect Dawn? I know what you said earlier, but I just want to hear it again."

Faith shrugged. "She's Buffy's sister. That's all there is to it, but it's more'n I need to keep me on my toes."

Willow closed her eyes again and let out what Faith thought might have been a sigh of relief. "Okay, then. Say 'hi' to everyone for me, okay? And could you maybe send Helga in again?"

"Yeah, no sweat. Just concentrate on the whole gettin' better thing."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Chuckling softly at Red's upbeat attitude, Faith exited the infirmary and tapped Helga on the shoulder on her way out. "She wants to see you."

Nodding without a word, the Hufflepuff matron moved back inside to check on her charge.

"How is she?" the red-haired boy asked.

Faith sighed. "She's tired, but doing better than I thought she'd be doing. She's gonna rest for a bit if Helga say she has to, and then you can see her a bit later."

The kid she'd met over the summer, Harry, let out a long breath. "Then I guess we wait until a bit later."

* * *

Hey all. Sorry about the name change to the story. After a bit of analysis, I figured this name was more fitting. Still the same story, though. Apologies for the confusion.

If anyone wants to beta-read this story, I could use the help. Shoot me a message if you want to lend a hand.

Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy the chapter. ^_^


	5. The Sun Shines Red

**Chapter Five: The Sun Shines Red**

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; JUNE 22, 1006_

Severus Snape scrutinized the two women who had been talking with Rosenberg by her bedside, trying to figure them out as best he could. At the very least, they were both intelligent enough not to blabber openly about the First, given that anything that could be known by the five senses was known to the First. How precisely those sensations translated was not quite clear, as Rosenberg had been quite insistent that its greatest desire was to become flesh so that it could physically feel. Large scale slaughter was its most likely course of action to attain this goal, naturally.

The same intelligence could unfortunately _not_ be applied to Potter and his cohorts. He had interrogated them the prior evening about everything they had discussed verbally to try and control the information the First would know about them, and they had of course divulged every piece of information they could possibly have divulged.

The First would now know that Faith and Dawn were likely to be in need of protection, and it would also know that it was probably Dawn who supposedly carried some device that acted as a key to a lock that was most likely magical in nature.

The only thing that eased Severus's mind at all was that the nature of this key remained a mystery. Rosenberg probably knew about it, given that she had personally retrieved Dawn to bring her under Dumbledore's protection. The Lehane girl probably knew about it as well, but it was possible that she was nothing more than hired muscle.

That was one other thing that Potter had revealed in his stupidity: the First now know that not only was Faith a Slayer, but that she was one of many. That kind of knowledge could move the world in the wrong hands; the hands into which Potter had just delivered said information.

Granger had been right about one thing, at least: Lehane might not realize it, but she would need to be protected just as much as Dawn Summers. The repercussions should a second Slayer die in this time were incomprehensible in their magnitude. At least a Slayer was theoretically capable of defending herself.

Snape was drawn from his upset thoughts as Helga Hufflepuff herself emerged from within the infirmary, having no idea how famous she would one day become. Standing in the presence of legends such as the Hogwarts Founders was like nothing that Severus had ever dreamed of. It was cruel that he had to restrain himself as much as he did from pursuing his academic curiosity so as not to affect the future, but he would still take a perverse sort of pleasure in knowing that he knew more about Salazar Slytherin, the man, than his last descendant ever would.

"You were right to call me," Hufflepuff said to Lehane. "Whatever you talked about spent a lot of her physical energy, but her magical and spiritual health is increasing steadily. I can't be certain, but I would guess that your time with her is doing only good for her."

Other than himself and Lehane, Rosenberg was the only true adult in their group, and calling Lehane an adult was pushing things. Dawn Summers might technically be of age, but she obviously still looked to others for protection. Hopefully Potter wouldn't try to play the hero and get himself killed defending her.

"She's been resting since midday," Dawn said as she looked out the windows towards the setting sun. Child she might be, but she was smart enough not to use words like 'noon' or 'twelve o'clock' that would give away their true nature. It was actually quite remarkable that the people here understood them as much as they did. The modern English language wouldn't come into being for many more years. There had to be some subtle magic at work. With the Founders alive and present, Snape doubted much would surprise him. "Is she awake?" Summers asked.

"She is," Hufflepuff confirmed. "She asked to see you, Mr. Snape, in private."

Though Snape understood the need for the two senior minds in their group to communicate with each other, Lehane clearly did not given the low whistle she let out. "Way to play it, Sev."

If Potter was an intolerable nuisance by his very nature, then Faith Lehane seemed to go out of her way to actively make herself just as infuriating. Alas, she was not one of his students, and was unlikely to be intimidated by any amount of sneering from him. "Do _not_ call me 'Sev' ever again," he managed to snarl.

"Whoa, chill out!" she protested. "Didn't mean anything by it. It's just… Who names their kid 'Severus' anyway? It's a bit of a mouthful."

Snape grimaced when he heard Helga Hufflepuff of all people stifling a chuckle at his misery. "My mother named me, if you must know," he said with quiet venom. It was more information than he usually ever let slip about himself, but it was one thing that he would not allow some idiot girl to mock him about.

For her part, Lehane looked at least a tiny bit sorry. "Yeah, well, parents can be a bit crazy when they actually care about their kids, right? But Red wants to see you, so step to it, Back in Black."

Another piece of the puzzle that was Faith Lehane fell into place. Had her parents truly not cared for her? Snape's own father might have been an abusive arse that gave Muggles a bad name, but his mother had been there for him when she could, at the very least. As for her most recent nickname for him, it had no obvious offensiveness to it. Black was practical and symbolic, and he would not apologize for his choice of garments.

Nodding brusquely to the Slayer, Severus made his way into the infirmary, stopping just long enough to give Professor Hufflepuff a courteous nod. He would have given her a polite smile, but such was simply not in his nature, and he didn't want to seem insincere.

A simple four-legged stool awaited him next to Rosenberg's bedside. She didn't look quite as clammy as she had yesterday, but she did look rather tired. Snape walked over to the bed and stood by Rosenberg's side. He did not care to sit just yet.

"Hey," she said softly with a smile. "So, uh, I'm guessing you're wondering why we're here, exactly."

"The Headmaster had discussed this plan with me as a last resort should it be necessary to hide from a foe we could not best. Given the nature of our enemy, I believe I understand why we are here."

Rosenberg chuckled, though it ended up in a cough.

"Take deep breaths, Rosenberg," Snape said, hoping to stave off any potential illness. "Inhale slowly, hold your breath for five seconds, and then exhale slowly."

The erstwhile Defense professor did as he told her, and she visibly relaxed after a few breaths. "Thanks, Severus. Er, that is, if you don't mind me calling you by your first name, I mean. You can call me Willow if you want, but it's okay if you don't."

Snape couldn't help but be simultaneously grateful for her thoughtfulness and also appalled by how Rosenberg seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve for all to see. "For the present, being on a first name basis would best serve our purposes," he said carefully.

Rosenberg – _No, it's Willow now_ – closed her eyes in what might have been contentment. "Okay. That works. So, uh, I've been out of it for a little while. Did anything apocalyptic happen while I've been in here?"

Oh, that was one way of putting it. "Potter and his friends were speculating openly about the nature of our enemy, about Miss Lehane's true nature, and about a device to undo a sort of lock that they believe to be in the possession of Dawn Summers."

Willow swore under her breath. "I taught them about it _just_ one day ago! What part of 'omnipresent' did they not understand?!"

Snape snorted in agreement and sat himself down on the stool. "Potter tends to find himself in trouble that is usually of his own creation. He relies on Granger and Weasley to help him out of such situations, which often involves a lot of guesswork and investigation. They probably assumed that this enemy was no different than any other they've faced before."

"And again," Willow said, clearly agitated, "what part of 'embodiment of all evil in the history of the world' is so hard to understand?! I thought those three were smarter than that. And that's another question: why are they even here? You know the most about this world, I get that. I know the most about the enemy, and Dawn and Faith are the reason we're here. What's so important about Harry, Hermione, and Ron?"

"There was a prophecy," Snape began.

Willow put a hand to her forehead and winced. "There's always a prophecy. But, anyway, you were saying?"

Snape resisted the urge to smirk. "The interpretation was accepted to mean that either Potter or the Dark Lord must kill the other."

"Uh-huh. What did it _actually_ say? Prophecies have a funny way of turning out to be not at all what you'd expect."

The girl was certainly perceptive. _No, she's not a girl. She might look young, but she's clearly faced her share of dangers. She's a woman, even if a young one._ "The prophecy was given at the end of June in 1991, and foretold of 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.' It refers to a male child born to parents who have defied the Dark Lord three times, and he will be born 'as the seventh month dies.' It goes on to say that the Dark Lord will 'mark him as his equal,' but that 'he will have power the Dark Lord knows naught.' The last portion tells that 'either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.'"

"Huh." Rosenberg's face was neutral as she pondered what Snape had just told her. "Have there been any other Dark Lords between when that prophecy was made and, well, when we left?"

"None that I know of, not counting our enemy and your other half, but I don't believe the prophecy applies to them; it specified the Dark Lord as male."

"Right. From what I know about Harry, that actually does seem to fit the interpretation, unless the prophecy was counting the months on a different calendar. I know Harry was marked with his scar by a curse that should have killed him, but did his parents fight V-" Willow took a moment to steady her breath. "Did his parents fight the Dark Lord three times before Harry was born? And what about the power that the Dark Lord doesn't have?"

For a moment, Snape was taken aback by Rosenberg's usage of the honorific title that he himself only used out of habit. But then he realized that she was making an attempt to not use his name so that the First would have less information to use against them. Yet another sign that she was far from childish. "His birth fits the criteria," Snape said evenly. "As for his exclusive power, the Headmaster has his theories. I am not entirely convinced, but the Headmaster is. While his speculation is far from conclusive, it is plausible."

Rosenberg's eyebrows rose a bit into her forehead. "Right. Because D… Because the Headmaster's speculation is never wrong." She sighed, seeming to be frustrated. "You know, if we're going to have to keep referring to these people, we're gonna need some sort of code so that we don't raise suspicion. Even if we keep using titles, those are bound to raise suspicion from certain people we might encounter while hiding out here."

"You raise a fair point," Snape conceded. "What would you suggest?"

"Something from home. Something the Big Bad wouldn't know about. I've actually been thinking about this for a while after Faith left me to rest. I'll be drawing from works of fiction that you've probably never heard of, so be patient with me, okay?"

"I can be patient when there is need," Snape said with a faint smirk.

Rosenberg smiled. "Did you just make a joke?"

"I never joke, Willow."

"Of course you don't," Willow said with a smirk before she let out a sigh. "This is going to be rough going forward. The Tothric device took most of my power with me, and I don't think I can use magic without a wand anymore. I know how to use a wand to an extent, but my experience with one is even less than those three kids out there. I may need you to help me out, Severus. I think we all will, actually."

Snape smirked at the irony of the situation he found himself in. After years of waiting patiently to teach defensive magic, his one opportunity came almost a thousand years in the past, and his only students would be three irritating Gryffindors, an almost childlike witch who had just lost a large amount of unknown power, and two other young women who remained mostly a mystery. "I will do what I can, though I imagine most of the teaching will fall to the current Professors here at Hogwarts. I may appeal to them as the senior most member of our group to join in the teaching, but we have an opportunity to learn from legends. It would be foolish to count on me alone when you have others at your disposal."

"Well, duh," Rosenberg said in an infuriatingly Muggle sort of way. "I didn't mean _just_ relying on you. Just that, well, you could help. I'm guessing I may be a more difficult student for you than you might like. I never really had a teacher before. Not a magic teacher, anyway."

This was news to Snape. "You are self-taught, then?"

"Mostly," Willow confirmed. "I had help from some friends. Tara taught me so much as well…" The redhead's thoughts seemed to wander with that last statement, and Snape guessed that Tara was her dead lover. "But for the most part, I learned magic on my own."

"If that is the case," Snape said with more than a hint of impatience, "then teaching you an unfamiliar style will not yield much success. Why did you choose to buy a wand in the first place if you had no need of one?"

"Well, I figured that all the students would need someone with a wand to teach them how to use their own. I figured it would be more of a teaching tool than anything else."

"And now that your double has absconded with much of your power, you feel the need to rely on a teaching tool to focus your magic?" he sneered. "You would rely on a tool that you have such little experience with?"

Willow winced at his criticism, but unlike many students who suffered similarly toned rebukes, she did not cave under the pressure. "I don't know, okay? This hasn't happened to me before. I just… When I hold my wand, I can feel its power. I feel like it's a part of myself that I can call upon when I need it. I'm just not sure how, yet."

"Hold a moment," Snape said, realizing something crucial. "Potter said that your double discarded her wand, and that is what you have on your person now. When you were split, you both still had everything on your persons that you had before the split. Are you sure that you do not have two wands in your possession?"

Rosenberg's face scrunched up in confusion. "I don't think so. I had my wand in a pocket in my sleeve, but I haven't taken it out since then." She held up a hand to tell him to pause while she fished in her sleeve, withdrew a wand, and placed it on a bedside table. A further search of her pockets and the bed revealed no trace of another wand. "Looks like there's just the one."

"Fascinating. Unfortunately, wand lore is not an area in which I am remotely qualified. A trip to Ollivander's is probably in order, assuming we can find the shop."

"If you say so." Willow closed her eyes and resumed her controlled breathing. "This would be so much easier if we could talk telepathically. I don't think You-Know-What can listen in on conversations that can't be seen or heard, but I don't know if I'm up to that kind of magic right now. And don't worry: 'You-Know-What' isn't the code name I had in mind. I'm still working on that in my head."

"Rest, Willow. In time, you will be up to your usual standards," Snape said, and as he said it, he wondered why he had let those words slip. Encouraging words were not something he was usually any good at, nor were they anything he cared for. Perhaps it was Rosenberg's minor resemblance to Lily Evans that brought out this protective side of him, but that was dangerous speculation. And if it was true, then he didn't even want to consider the fact that he might be emotionally compromised. "And I can help for the time being."

"You can?" she asked hopefully.

"Perhaps. It would require direct eye contact, most likely, and a degree of trust that I am not sure you have any right to place in me. For that matter, I would need to trust you more than I currently do." The fact that he trusted her at all was another revelation that some unknown emotions were getting the better of him. Yes, Rosenberg was mostly competent, and she had the wisdom to do away with traditions if they hindered the mission, but there was much he still didn't know about her.

Willow sighed. "Look, I'm not sure if we have the luxury of, you know, getting to know each other really well before we'll be forced to do something like this. You've given me no reason not to trust you, save that Harry, Ron, and Hermione don't seem to like you that much. Give me a good reason for that, and I'll let you into my mind if you're willing to take a leap of faith with me."

Under normal circumstances, Severus would not even consider sharing the personal details of his life with someone he had only known in a purely professional context for only a few months. But these were not normal circumstances. "Potter's father was to me much as young Mr. Malfoy is to Potter. The resemblance between father and son is too great for me to attempt to ignore without driving myself mad. Granger and Weasley are merely along for the ride, I believe is the term."

"Severus Snape," Willow mock-scolded him, "are you saying that you're letting a childhood grudge color your judgment?"

"Mockery will get you nowhere, Rosenberg," he sneered.

"All right, all right. I'm sorry," she said, and she seemed to mean it, given the slight flush in her face. "That was mean of me. Note to self: don't joke with Severus, since he's all serious and stuff." She took another deep breath. "All right. I trust you to look into my mind. Just don't go further than you have to, all right? There's some stuff in there that's not relevant and that I'd just as soon keep private."

"Likewise," Snape said, withdrawing his wand. "Prepare yourself, Willow. _Legilimens!_"

Images from Rosenberg's life bombarded Snape's mind, and he worked to sift through them to find what was needed.

Many images of a young girl alone in a large house passed him by. Soon she was joined at a Muggle school with two boys her own age. A girl with long brown hair appeared along with a flurry of shameful emotions, and he felt Willow push back against those memories. Painful and possibly irrelevant, then.

A girl with blonde hair and green eyes joined the others, and one of the boys from earlier was gone, replaced by a vampire wearing his face. The other boy staked him and turned him to dust, which was tinged with a great swell of sorrow. The names 'Jesse' and 'Xander' attached themselves to the vampire boy and the surviving friend, respectively. Soon after, Dawn's face joined the blonde, which was soon labeled Buffy Summers.

Monsters and demons of all manner of shapes and sizes passed him by, all of them ending up slain or otherwise incapacitated. A boy entered the picture, and the name 'Oz' was appended to this face, followed soon by the revelation that he was a werewolf. A cage held him during the nights surrounding the full moon, and a Muggle weapon fired some sort of dart that incapacitated the werewolf without killing him. Idly, Severus pondered the immense use such a tool could be against any number of different foes. Another face, a dark-skinned woman named Kendra appeared, but she was quickly killed by the Master Vampire, Drusilla.

Another year came and went and Severus saw Willow's first memory of Faith Lehane. The Faith with them currently was dressed in a black leather jacket, a red shirt of some sort, black leather pants, and heavy boots. Her younger self resembled this image for the most part, though the memories painted her as more promiscuous than Severus had previously imagined. A wall soon appeared that forbade him from viewing anything more about Faith. A brief thought from Willow nudged him to ask the Slayer herself about these things rather than to press Willow about them.

The year came and went, ending in a confrontation with a dark wizard ascended into a serpentine True Demon, which had been destroyed quite simply by a sufficiently large explosion that had decimated the school building. Thoughts of demolishing Hogwarts to kill the basilisk sent shivers through Snape's mind.

Oz soon met another werewolf, a female, and unable to control himself, he left Willow heartbroken and alone. Weeks passed before a strange magic stole the voices of the entire town of Sunnydale, and Willow had only survived the creatures called 'the Gentlemen' by joining forces with a blonde-haired witch, and the name Tara affixed itself to her.

Willow made an effort to eliminate the next year and a half from Snape's thoughts, and he detected an urgency that he not press the matter. He trusted Willow's judgment, and the next image he saw was a tombstone over a grave belonging to Buffy Summers, around which sat Willow, Tara, Xander, and another woman that was identified as Anya. Led by Willow, they performed a most foolhardy ritual intended to resurrect Buffy Summers, presumably possible given the circumstances of her death, which Willow would not disclose.

Throughout the next year, Willow grew increasingly powerful magically, and she grew increasingly reliant on magic for the most mundane of tasks. For wizards and witches in Snape's world, this was not uncommon, but for a Muggle-raised, self-taught witch drawing on powers tainted by the Hellmouth, she was drawn into a downward spiral that involved a temporary separation from Tara, who had by then become her dear lover.

Another memory showed Tara and Willow reuniting, and while Severus tried not to intrude on the graphic details of their lovemaking, he could feel how strong their love for each other was. Even though Tara was not truly there with them, he could sense that this was a bond that could only be broken by death.

As if in response to his thoughts, a Muggle weapon similar to the one that had incapacitated the werewolf struck Tara. Unlike the other weapon, this one was designed to kill, and faced with her other half dead in her arms, Willow descended back into the darkness that she had struggled to free herself from, and what followed was a display of uninhibited power that truly frightened Severus. Not just her immense power, which she had attempted to end the world with, but the cold glee that accompanied that power was chilling in a way that the Dark Lord had yet to fully match.

It was then that an image of Xander appeared. A Muggle with no special powers of any sort appealed to Willow's humanity, and indeed it had been said that no magical or supernatural force could stop her. But the pureness of Xander's friendship brought Willow back from the brink of evil and she grieved for her dearly departed lover.

The next year showed a confrontation against eyeless creatures called Bringers, or else Harbingers of the First Evil, along with a man dressed as a Christian priest who was acting as a vessel for the First. It was attempting to destroy the entire Slayer line, as it had been given a foothold in the real world due to Buffy Summers's resurrection, and it sought to expand that foothold and become truly incarnate.

An unearthed relic of some sort, a crimson weapon that resembled an axe with a stake on the end, appeared in Willow's hands, and she tapped into its power and all by herself activated every potential Slayer on the planet, giving them a small army of Slayers. A vampire with a soul exploded in a burst of light, and as the others fled, the vampire's sacrifice caused the town of Sunnydale to collapse, sealing the Hellmouth there permanently.

The next three years were relatively uneventful by comparison, with a relocation to Cleveland and then to Washington DC to be close to the evil they sought to fight, and then Willow sensed the ritual that the Dark Lord had used to revive himself. The rest, Severus knew, and he withdrew from Willow's mind.

The red-haired witch breathed slowly and steadily in her bed. "You saw it all?" she asked.

"Save for what you did not want me to see, yes." A thought occurred to him. "What did you see?"

"Only what you didn't want kept secret," she confirmed. "And you keep a _lot_ of secrets about yourself. I appreciate you sharing what, uh, Non has done and what he has planned, so thanks for that. But I'm surprised how much of your personal life you censored. You don't strike me as the type of person who cares what other people think about that stuff."

Severus was not at all comfortable with discussing his personal life with anyone, let alone a relative newcomer into his life. "I am accustomed," he said carefully, "to the company of those who are always seeking an advantage to use against anyone they meet. I have learned to guard my thoughts with great care. Trust does not come easily to me."

"I guess not," Willow said. "And wow! That was tiring. But before we call it a day, there are a few more people I need to talk with."

* * *

Harry sat on a bench outside of the infirmary and wondered for the umpteenth time why they were in this time period. Hermione was probably right about the dangers of being here, where the tiniest change could mean a world of difference for everyone they knew and cared about.

And why had they fled? Was it because of whatever Malfoy had done to Rosenberg? Was it because of this First that they'd learned about just recently? It couldn't be Voldemort, or else they would have fled as soon as the Triwizard Tournament had ended.

Harry understood that the purpose was to protect him, and possibly Dawn Summers as well. Why an army of Slayers, the Order of the Phoenix, and any number of non-corrupt Aurors couldn't protect them back home was something that was beyond Harry's understanding.

Sparing a brief look at Ron and Hermione, he guessed that they were just as confused as he was.

The door to the infirmary opened quietly and suddenly to reveal Professor Snape. "Inside," he snarled with quiet venom. "Granger, Weasley: You as well."

Harry briefly glared at Snape before heading in to see Professor Rosenberg. She looked paler than usual, and it was strange to see her in a sickbed. The usually lively and vivacious professor hardly looked the part right now.

The door closed behind him, and Harry was surprised to see that Snape was still with them.

"Professors," Hermione said carefully, "what's going on?"

Snape glowered at the three of them. "I am here to explain whatever Professor Rosenberg cannot for whatever reason. In the meantime, I suggest you stay silent unless you are spoken to directly. And if you must say anything, for Merlin's sake, use what little brains you possess."

"That's enough, Severus," Rosenberg said softly. "I'll take it from here."

The Defense professor turned to look at Ron, Hermione, and then Harry in turn, and it was clear that this was not to be a visit to wish well the bedridden witch.

"Professor Snape tells me that you three were speculating aloud on the nature of what we're on the run from. Don't say anything!" she said harshly before Harry could speak in his defense.

"You three like to investigate your enemies and figure out what's going on, I get it. There is a time and a place for that, but we are in neither the time nor the place. With an enemy that is omnipresent – that is to say, it exists everywhere, all the time – it will hear whatever you hear, see whatever you see, and so forth. We're going to call this enemy Lord Zod going forward as a code name. I told you in class that Lord Zod knew everything that anyone can sense, and you gave audio and visual clues when you spoke about it. Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

Rosenberg did not raise her voice, likely because she was still sick, but the rebuke still stung tremendously. Until now, Rosenberg had been an ally, even a friend. For her to turn on them like this… It made him furious.

"I thought you were on our side!" Ron said angrily. "So you're saying we shouldn't even talk about the-"

"Silence!" Snape barked. "Weasley, I told you not to speak unless you were spoken to _directly._ And this is not a matter of being on one side or another. Think before you speak, for just once in your life!"

"Enough, Severus," Rosenberg said. "Let me say this more simply," Rosenberg said. "Anything you say, hear, see, smell, taste, and maybe touch… Lord Zod knows _all_ of it, and Lord Zod will use every bit of information it has to manipulate you and others. Or did you learn nothing from my lessons about deception and misinformation?"

Harry hadn't thought about that. An enemy who couldn't be touched hadn't seemed like much of an enemy, and yet the Ministry had done too much damage without laying a physical hand on much of anything.

Hermione raised her hand on Harry's left.

"Yes, what is it, Hermione?" Rosenberg asked not unkindly.

"Well, Professor… It's just that… Why are we using code names if Lord Zod already knows what we know?"

"Because," Rosenberg said patiently, "there are other people here in this school who we need to interact with. We need to give names to our problems. Names that they can't recognize. In a popular story back home, General Zod – we'll call him a Lord for simplicity's sake – was the most powerful and evil of all his kind, and he sought to rule over everything.

"Lord Zod had two powerful allies, although minions would be more appropriate. One was a cruel woman named Ursa, and the other was a savage man named Non. Those are our enemies to anyone who asks, and you should call them that amongst yourselves as well. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, unable to find words. He thought he heard Ron and Hermione affirm their understanding, but the notion of an evil Willow _and_ Lord Voldemort both being minions of something even more powerful was almost too much for him to comprehend.

"One more thing," Rosenberg said. There was a wise elder among the people we came from. He was a benevolent man, but for all of his wisdom, he tended to see things from a point of view that no one else could. For all of his power and wisdom and goodness, he could only see the world from a limited point of view. In desperation, he sent us here to hide from Zod and his minions. That elder's name is Jor-El, and we can only hope he's still alive and fighting off Lord Zod while we gather our strength."

That got Harry's attention. "You mean we're going to go back home?"  
"Eventually, yes," Snape said. "We are not here simply to hide. There is a great amount to learn here. Knowledge and information are a currency that never loses its extraordinary value. Remember that whenever you speak, since every word you say will give Lord Zod more weapons to wield."

A knock came from the door, and Helga Hufflepuff stepped inside. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that young Willow needs to rest now. I've let you all take her attention and energy for too long, and I would like to oversee her for the next few days without interruption."

"Of course, Professor," Snape said with more deference than Harry could remember him showing to anyone. "And thank you again for looking after her."

"Think nothing of it," Professor Hufflepuff said warmly. "You are all guests at Hogwarts, and so long as you stay, we will all do our utmost to care for you."

Snape bowed his head in appreciation. "We will of course be happy to assist you in any way that we can. Until later, Willow, be well."

"Thanks, Severus," Rosenberg said with a small smile. "All of you… You all look out for each other, okay?"

Harry nodded. "We will, Pro- We will, Willow."

"All right, now. Out with you," Helga Hufflepuff said as she shooed them from the infirmary.

As the door closed behind them, Snape turned on his three students. "You had all better be mindful of what you just learned in there. Anything you say could potentially put all of us in graver danger than you can possibly imagine."

A rogue thought escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. "Are you scared?"

Snape glared at Harry with cold fury. "I once knelt at the feet of one Dark Lord. It was a most trying and painful experience. If you have any sense of self-preservation, you will do as Rosenberg and I suggest, or we will all be forced to kneel before Zod."

* * *

As per usual, I own nothing at all. Credit for the characters and settings go to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon.

I honestly didn't think I'd continue this story, and yet here we are. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I hope I can continue to deliver a story worth reading.


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